Rowan Coleman - Ruby Parker - Musical Star

“The thing is, you’ve got proper talent,” Anne-Marie said, exasperated. “You deserve all the fame and the fortune because you’ve worked for it. Not like Jade Caruso – what’s she ever done, and she gets her very own musical on TV?”

“What are you on about?” I asked. One thing I definitely didn’t miss about the Academy was Jade, her catty sneer and her permanently arched eyebrows, always on red alert to make a mean remark.

“Haven’t you heard?” Nydia exclaimed. “Jade’s dad, Mick Caruso, has written a musical. At least, it’s based around all of his hit songs from the last million years or something. He’s calling it Spotlight and it’s set – wait for it – in a stage school.”

“He’s got together with this writer bloke and they made the songs into a story,” Anne-Marie added. “I think it’s supposed to be put on in schools and things all over the country, but to launch it he’s doing this one-off live TV performance on the BBC for charity.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling a bit confused. “And?”

“And? Almost all the actors in it are to be kids aged between twelve and sixteen. And guess who’s auditioning for the lead role?”

“Um…” For one horrible moment I had visions of my Hollywood nemesis Adrienne Charles coming all this way across the Atlantic just to harass me.

“Jade Caruso, you idiot,” Anne Marie told me, flinging her arms in the air. “Her daddy couldn’t buy her any talent so he gave her a TV musical instead!”

“Jade can’t be the lead in a musical,” I said. “She’s an even worse singer than me!”

“I know,” Anne-Marie exclaimed. “And that’s saying something.”

“Well, to be fair to Jade,” Nydia interrupted, making Anne-Marie roll her eyes, “Mr Caruso is holding open auditions and Jade says she has to go through them like everyone else. She’s told her dad she doesn’t want any special treatment.”

“Really?” I asked, looking at Anne-Marie in disbelief.

“You know that you should be at those auditions, don’t you?” Anne-Marie asked me. “You and Sean should both be there.”

When she said that I felt something go off in my tummy, like a spark – a little flicker of how I used to feel about acting. Chances like the one Jade was getting should be earned and not bought, and was she really going to earn it? Then it hit me – who was I to talk? I got offered a film part and a TV role all because at the age of six I was picked at random to be in a soap opera. I hadn’t earned any of my chances and as soon as my talent had truly been tested, it had failed miserably.

“But Sean’s not going, right?” I asked her.

Anne-Marie sighed and flopped down on my bed.

“No, he’s not. But that shouldn’t stop you!”

“The last thing I want is to ever go to another audition,” I assured her. “I’m with Sean on this one.”

“Anyway,” Nydia said, looking at me sideways, “even if Jade does get through the open auditions, the final decision is going to be made by a public vote on a live televised final. There’s no way they can rig that result.”

“Oh, you are so naïve,” Anne-Marie said, rolling her eyes again. “They do it all the time! She’s bound to get the lead.”

“Only if you two don’t go in for it,” I told both of my friends. “I hope you are.”

“Course we are,” Anne-Mare said. “Sylvia Lighthouse didn’t give us a choice, but we would have anyway. The whole school is, apart from Sean. You should see Danny – one rubbish hit record and he thinks he’s Justin Timberlake. He’s sure he’ll get a male lead and I wouldn’t be surprised if he does because Jade’s still got her eye on him even though he’s going with Smelody Melody…oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t care,” I lied. Mum had told me I’d get over Danny before I knew it, but so far no luck. Not even a lovely kiss with the gorgeous Hunter Blake had worked. I kept my feelings to myself though, because the last thing I needed on top of all the other humiliation I had suffered was to be the girl that Danny Harvey didn’t fancy any more.

“And there is no way we can get you to audition?” Nydia asked me. “What if we brought you cakes? Double chocolate cookies?”

I laughed and flopped back on to my bed. “No, I’m not going to audition,” I said firmly, feeling surprisingly happy about saying those words out loud. I ticked the reasons off on my fingers. “Number one, because I’ve given up show business, or hasn’t anyone noticed? Number two, because I can’t sing. And number three, can you imagine the look on Jade’s face if I turned up? Smug-a-rama!”

“She would be hideously smug, that’s true,” Anne-Marie conceded.

“We’d never hear the end of it,” Nydia added sighing. “But Ruby, just think – if you auditioned and went through to the live televised final and then got a lead role and then was brilliant and then all the critics loved you, then how smug would Jade be? Hey? Not very, that’s how.”

“Look, Nyds, thanks for still believing in me and all that – but this is it. This is me now, OK?”

“OK,” Nydia said, deflating. “If you say so.” Anne-Marie picked up the DVD she’d brought. “So when are we going to watch this then?” She asked me, changing the subject.

Just then the doorbell sounded.

“That’ll be Dakshima,” I told her. “Put the DVD in while I go and get her. And be nice to her, she’s the nearest thing I’ve got to a friend at Highgate and it’s a big deal that she’s come over tonight. Don’t freak her out!”

“Seriously, is that Anne-Marie for real?” Dakshima asked me as I walked out to her dad’s car with her a couple of hours later. “Nydia is cool, but the other chick is just weird. She’s all plastic fantastic. She’s a stage school Barbie.”

I tried not to laugh as I glanced up at my bedroom window where Anne-Marie was no doubt being just as rude about Dakshima. The first meeting between my old and new friend hadn’t gone as well as I had hoped. Nydia was just Nydia, all lovely and funny. Dakshima made it clear she wasn’t impressed that Nydia had been on TV quite a lot, but soon the two of them were hitting it off just like two girls the same age with a lot in common should do. Anne-Marie was completely different. She was like the old Anne-Marie, before Nydia and I had made friends with her – a girl who always seemed aloof, as if the rest of us weren’t good enough for her. She barely spoke to Dakshima and when she did it came out either rude or stuck up.

“The thing is,” I tried to explain to Dakshima, “she’s not really like that. I thought she was a total cow too for ages, and she thought I was one, but she’s just shy and when she meets people she doesn’t know she puts on a front. A lot of us actors…a lot of actors are really shy. I know it seems weird that they can jump about on stage in front of hundreds of people, but that’s because they are being someone else, when they have to be themselves it’s completely different. Once you’ve got to know her you’ll see. She’s a really great friend, plus she could take Adele any day of the week.”

Dakshima looked sceptical. “If you say so,” she said, opening the door of her dad’s car. “Cool DVD though. Do you really know that Hunter kid?”

For about one tenth of second I remembered Hunter kissing me. “Well, I’ve met him,” I said. “Not really the same thing as knowing him.”

“Well, tonight was a laugh. We should hang out more after school anyway,” Dakshima said.

“Great,” I said. “I’d like that.”

“So are you ready for the choir audition tomorrow?” Dakshima asked.